Chapter 5

11.1K 571 50
                                    

Nate.

"My Dad. He's dead."
I couldn’t believe the words as they came out of my mouth and Sylvia froze as she moved to come over to me.

“Dead?” She repeated and trying as best I could, I was unable to feel anything from her. It was as if she turned to stone and her movements that followed were robotic, stiff and unnatural. “I’m sorry to hear that Nate.”

No, she wasn’t. She just didn’t know what else to say.

She seemed to melt as her arms went around me. Loosing the frozen edge her body bought nothing but warmth and comfort to me. Whether she knew she was doing it or if it just came to her naturally was beyond me. I needed it though.

He was my Dad.

How was I able to have so many feelings of hate directed his way, yet I still managed to love him? Shrugging out of Sylvia’s hold, I went straight into our bedroom. Everything was routine, demanding my focus while I ignored my thoughts.

Take off my shoes.

Take off my socks.

Take off my pants, my shirt.

Leaving my things in a pile on the floor I went into the bathroom and shut the door, sensing her lingering outside the doorway. I couldn’t face Sylvia right now. How can I feel sad he is gone when the past is still reflected in her eyes? I can’t miss him, or any of them.  They don’t deserve it and what if we had stayed? I probably would have killed him anyway or least died trying.

They had been nothing other than cruel to Sylvia, but he had shown me how to tie my shoelaces, ride a bike and drive a car. How many times had he sided with my Mother when she accused Sylvia of stealing things that weren’t even missing? How many times had he helped me with homework or encouraged me when I needed it?

How many times had he told me all about the wonder of finding your destined mate to then tell me to forget it and leave her? How many times did he threaten to kill her? How many times did he nearly succeed?

He’s dead.

It doesn’t matter what he did or said he would do. He was gone.

Dead.

He is my Dad.

Was, he was my Dad.

I can’t believe I’m letting him get to me like this. Sinking to my knees, I fall to the floor and I cry. For the first time in a long time, I cry. Then there she is, lying beside me as she mumbles soothing gentle words in my ear, stroking my cheek and rubbing my back as I end up holding onto for the comfort I have no right to take from her. Not about him at least.

Somewhere in the haze of my breakdown, I wonder why she isn’t happier. If I had been her, I would have been thrilled he was gone. Never again could he hurt her and daring to look up into those emerald eyes, there was no joy or even nothingness. Just sadness.

“How?” I stutter, not moving from where I was curled against her on the bathroom floor. She stays quiet, acting as a pillar for me - stronger than she thinks she is.

“I don’t know Nate, I can ask Aiden?”

“No, how are you sad?” I ask, clutching her hand in my mine.

“It doesn’t matter who he was to me Nate. He was your Father and I know how it feels like to loose a parent before you’re ready and without saying goodbye.” Watching the water pool in the corner of her eyes, a solitary stream ran down her left cheek as just for a second her own weaknesses found release from where ever she kept them buried.

MineWhere stories live. Discover now